If they had quitted their cottage ignorant of the coming of their enemies, and only bent on paying John Gower a visit – doubtless intending to do him some mischief or other; it might be that they would hurry home, and encounter the angry mob of people, in which case there would be wild work one way or the other. If, however, as was more probable (and as was generally believed to be the case when the matter was considered afterwards), the three crones had been well aware of the projected attack upon them, and had purposely left home – hoping that they might lie safely hid in the abode of so honest and quiet a man as Gower until the danger was over, then it became a serious question as to what other refuge they would seek, now that they had been so manfully driven from their intended place of safety. The doubts of the lookers-on, however, were soon solved.
A strange thing happened, which would never have been believed in those days, but that Firminger and Gower both solemnly declared it, and which perhaps actually will not be believed in these days of doubt and want of faith, but which I must nevertheless relate as Farmer Barrett told it to me. As soon as they were well on the other side of the road, each crone jumped upon her cat, and the animals, lightly springing over the hedge into the next field, set off full gallop in an easterly direction – or, in other words, heading as straight as a line to Aldington Knoll, well-known in those good old days as the great fortress of witches. That was their point, no doubt, and it looked very much as if they were going to give up Mersham as a bad job, and betake themselves to other and safer quarters.
As soon as Firminger saw the line which the crones took, he turned to Gower and said in a hasty tone, "Come on, mate, this must be seen to at once. Let us join the chaps who are gone to the old cottage as fast as we can, and tell them what we have seen, and all that has happened."
John Gower was too wise a man to hesitate. Had he done so, he knew well enough that he would be suspected of having knowingly harboured the crones, and of being in league with them, a suspicion which would have ruined him for ever in his native parish, and probably driven him from the county.
So he bade Mary mind the house, and keep Jane and Billy at home, and then he set off at best pace with Firminger down the road in the direction of the cottage of the crones. They very soon reached it, and found it surrounded by a number of people, who were engaged in demolishing the premises altogether. They had not found much, probably because there was not much to find; and the owners of the place, as we know, had taken themselves off before the arrival of their unwelcome visitors. But they broke everything they could find, tore down the thatched roof to search for magic charms, none of which they found, but only a number of mice, and a great deal of dust. They pulled to pieces the wooden part of the cottage, and knocked down a great part of the stone corner, counting everything as fair game, as witches' property, and striving their utmost to destroy as much as they possibly could.
There were more than a couple of hundred people, all told, Farmer Barrett believed, and he gave me a great many names, but I forget most of them. There was Bully Robus, of the "Farriers' Arms," I know, and little Dick Broadfoot, the tailor, of Mersham Street, and Bill Parsons, all the way from Warehorne Green. There were Gowers, and Farrances, Sillibournes and Swaflers, Swinerds and Finns – in short, not a family in that or any of the other parishes which was not represented, and they all seemed to vie with each other, which should do the most mischief, and be foremost in pulling down and destroying that evil place.
It was several minutes before James Firminger and John Gower could command the attention of people so eagerly occupied about their business as these witch-seekers, and it would have been still longer, but for the position and character of Firminger, and his known hatred of all that pertained to witchcraft. He presently succeeded in making them listen to the wonders he had to relate, and when they knew for certain what had happened and the direction which the crones had taken, the whole current of their thoughts was turned into one eager desire to follow, and, if possible, to make an end of the inmates of that awful cottage as well as of the abode itself.
They lost no time, therefore, in finishing the work on which they were then engaged, and immediately afterwards the whole party swarmed up the road in the direction of Aldington Knoll, keeping up each other's courage by many brave words, and shouting uncomplimentary epithets with regard to the three crones. So they pushed on until they came to the spot where four roads met; one, that which our party had traversed in walking from the cottage, another bearing back to Bilsington and Ruckinge, a third to Newchurch and the Marsh, and the fourth to Aldington Knoll.
Down this last road the people turned, and then, immediately before them they had the mass of wood upon the side of the hill, which then, as now, encompassed the knoll itself upon the north, west, and south, the ground to the east being somewhat less woody. The knoll – apparently a grass hill, only that the grass being a good deal worn away, showed the bare rock at several places – peered over the woods, and the road to it lay right through the latter for some distance, until by turning into a gate upon your right hand, you entered the field out of which the knoll rose, and from the higher points of which were magnificent views over the Marsh and all the country east, west, and south, the hills behind shutting out the view to the north.
The people were now some three-quarters of a mile from this gate, and, if the truth could be known, I have no doubt whatever that some of them would very gladly have been a great deal further off.
The power of the crones themselves was so well known, and the reputation of Aldington Knoll was so bad, that no one felt sure that some terrible misfortune might not result from braving the one and attacking the other.
They had all heard strange tales of people bewitched, changed into animals, losing their senses, and all kinds of other disagreeable things, and of course such tales would recur to them at such a moment. But there were brave hearts – then as now – among the men of Kent, and although fears and doubts may have been there, they did not operate so as to turn any man back from the work he had undertaken. The people moved down the road towards Aldington, and reached the point at which the woods began. At that moment a loud clap of thunder pealed through the air, and vivid lightning flashed across the sky.
A shudder passed through many a stout frame, but the men pushed boldly on. Then came a severe hailstorm – so severe that the people took shelter beneath the trees, and waited until its violence seemed to be passed.
But none turned back. Then came a bitter, chilling wind, though it had been a lovely, soft, mellow day: the wind cut through the trees with a moaning sound, and pierced the people like a mid-winter blast.
Still they pressed on, knowing that witchcraft was at work, and that retreat would be ruin. They were half-way between the point at which the road entered the woods and the gate before mentioned, when a loud and terrible roaring was heard upon the right, from the woods which stretched up close to the knoll itself. So strange and so dreadful was this sound, that it made the blood of those who heard it run cold, and for a moment the foremost men of the throng paused.
But three men there were in that crowd who neither quailed nor paused for a moment, so resolutely determined were they to carry out the work they had commenced that day. These men were James Firminger, Farmer Long, and old David Finn, the parish clerk of Mersham. The last named knew but little of crones or witches, but tradition said that there always must be a Finn for parish clerk, and that Mersham would not be Mersham without one. This being the case, the old man felt it to be his duty to take such prominent part in an affair like the present as became one of an ancient family, filling an hereditary office.
Therefore, although he knew that the rector would most likely have disapproved of the step he was taking, he had started early that day, and in company with Bully Robus and sundry other notables of the parish, had taken an active part in the proceedings from the beginning.
These three men, then, were not deterred by the roaring, though it much resembled that of wild and savage beasts desiring their prey, and seeing it before their eyes. And when no beasts appeared, and it seemed to be nothing but sound, the rest of the people regained their courage, and all continued to push on towards the gate into the knoll-field. About a hundred yards before they reached it, however, they found that they had to encounter an unexpected obstacle in the shape of several enormous elms which lay stretched across the road in such a manner as to most effectually bar any further progress.
But to the astonishment of all, no sooner had Firminger, Long, and Finn (who were now recognised as the leaders of the expedition) approached close to the barrier, than it vanished as suddenly as it had appeared, and left the roadway free.
Encouraged by this result, as unexpected as it was satisfactory, the party advanced a few yards farther, to find a great ditch yawning in front of them, and evidently intended to stop their farther advance. On seeing this, Finn rushed to the front, and standing close to the edge of the abyss, pronounced in a loud voice the word "Amen," which he had long held to be the most sacred and powerful form of invocation known to the world, and one which never failed to repel any evil creature to whom it was addressed.
Whether from the effects of his utterance, or from any other reason, I cannot say, but certain it is that as the worthy clerk put one leg forward as if to step into the ditch, it closed up as if it had never been dug, which perhaps was the case. At all events, whether it was a real ditch or only a delusion of the eye, the chasm disappeared altogether, and once more the party proceeded, until they reached the gate of the field, and faced it, about to enter and approach the knoll, which now lay upon their right, the field in which it was situate stretching back into the woods.
On entering the gate, they were at once struck by the novel and curious appearance of the knoll. Smoke appeared to envelope it on all sides, and a deep rumbling proceeded from within it, as if a volcano were at work, and a volcano that meant mischief too. The party paused for a moment, looked at each other and then at the knoll, and began to wonder what they had better do next. Everybody thought that everybody else was stopping quite unnecessarily, but nobody seemed inclined to move on first.
Even the three bold men, Firminger, Long, and Finn, seemed less eager than hitherto, and whispered to each other in low, mysterious tones, that they fancied they saw dark and fearful figures moving about among the smoke in which the knoll was enveloped. It was well known to these men, and indeed to most or all of their companions, that Aldington knoll was reputed to be the abode and principal gathering-place of all the evil creatures in that part of the country.
By common consent men had for a long time past shunned it as a haunted and wicked spot, and it was no common evidence of courage that so many men had been found to approach it upon this occasion. After a few moments, the three men recollected the responsibility of their position, and the absolute certainty that if their party returned home defeated, the neighbourhood would thenceforward be worse off than ever. The crones would never forget the plunder and destruction of their cottage, and would doubtless exact a severe compensation from the perpetrators of that ruthless deed.
Moreover, for a couple of hundred people to have it said that they had been circumvented and beaten by three old women, was a thing not to be thought of; so, shame overcoming their reluctance, they boldly marched forward again, and encouraged their followers to charge up to the very foot of the knoll. They had got quite close to it when, either by accident, or because he pulled it too hard in his nervous fidgeting with it, the string by which James Firminger's relic was tied round his neck suddenly broke, and the charm itself fell to the ground.
Hardly had this occurred, when a yell, most discordant in its tone, but appearing to express a mingled feeling of joy, triumph, fury and revengeful longing all in one, broke from the interior of the mount. The next instant the knoll itself opened wide, just like the mouth of a man preparing for a tremendous yawn, and a whole volley of cinders and ashes came bursting over the approaching party in a most disconcerting and unpleasant manner. At the same time strange and uncouth figures suddenly appeared issuing from the knoll, some with goat's heads and horns, others with the bodies of men but a pig's head, snout and bristles, others like monkeys (but oh! such frightful monkeys as never were seen) and all with eyes that rolled fearfully in their heads and glittered like fire. Conspicuous among this awful band appeared the figures of the three crones, Bony, Skinny, and Humpy, each carrying a broomstick in her hand, and followed by her cat, which bounded forward as if to attack the invaders of the haunted hill. This was more than the latter could stand – they wavered – looked round – tottered a step or two backward, and then, as the cinders, hot cinders too, came upon them and the evil creatures almost touched them, they turned round with one accord, and fled down from the knoll as fast as their legs would carry them. Farmer Long was the first of the three leaders who gave way, for he afterwards declared that he recognized the lost kitten in a cat which seemed to select him as her particular object of attack, and as he ran, he vowed that he felt a scratch which penetrated, sharp and deep, in such a manner that he could not sit down comfortably for a fortnight, and felt perfectly sure that only the claws of that kitten could or would have dealt him such a wound. As for Finn, he so lost his head, that he ran off, bawling out "Amen" continuously at the top of his voice, but in a tone which conveyed so little of the real importance and dignity attaching to the word, that it is little wonder that it had no effect.
James Firminger – as became a man of his character and position – stood his ground longest, but his charm being gone, he felt less confidence, and when he, too, turned and ran, he felt himself belaboured by an invisible stick all the way down to the gate of the field.
Shouts, shrieks and yells of laughter, followed the retreating party, and there was scarcely a man in whose breast, amid all his fears, the thought did not arise that the result of this day's work had turned out to be one so utterly unfortunate for the people, and so triumphant for the crones, that the neighbourhood would have to submit to be witch-ridden for ever after.
But, sometimes, in human affairs, whether those of an individual or a community, at the very moment when things seem to be at their worst, they begin to mend, and that amendment is not unfrequently brought about by some agent which, to the wise and knowing of mankind, would have appeared the most insignificant and the most unlikely to have effected the change. So it was in the present instance. The affrighted people came rushing through the gate, and, avoiding the road through the wood, which was their natural way home, turned in an easterly direction, and ran up the road leading away from the woods, and into the main road leading from Aldington Corner to Hythe. They had run but a very short distance when they came upon the "innocent," simple Steenie Long, sitting on the bank of the road side, apparently looking for flowers. He looked up with a vacant expression upon his face (which I am told was not unusual with idiots in those days) and seemed astonished to see so many people all running in such a hurry.
Several of the party hurried past the boy, too much occupied about providing for their own safety to think either of him or of anybody else. Presently, however, Farmer Long came running by, already somewhat out of breath, and burning with rage and shame at having been unable to resist the impulse which had made him fly before the power of the evil creatures of the knoll. When he came to the place where his son was sitting, he stopped short in his flight, and seizing the boy by the arm, hastily exclaimed, "Come along, lad, come along; this is no place for the likes of you!" endeavouring at the same time to hurry the youth away with him.
But "Simple Steenie" was by no means of the same opinion. He drew himself away from his father's hold, opened his large blue eyes to their fullest extent, and observed in a calm but very decided tone. "Steenie not."
"Not what, boy?" said the farmer eagerly. "You'd better not stop here, anyhow; leastways if you do, the witches will have you." But the boy, who had by this time risen to his feet, only smiled pleasantly upon his father, with the simple smile of the weak of intellect, and answered in a gentle tone. "Steenie not 'fraid. People run. Steenie not run."
At this moment up came James Firminger, already bitterly repenting the flight which seemed certain to lead to such disastrous consequences. Overhearing the words of the boy, the thought instantly struck him that they might be turned to good account.
Well did stout Firminger know that whatever be the power of witches and warlocks, it has no effect upon those whom Heaven has deprived of their full share of reason and intellect, and it occurred to him (and perhaps it was true) that this unexpected meeting with "Simple Steenie" was not accidental, but that it was possibly so ordered, that the victory of the evil ones might be prevented.
He stopped instantly, and shouted aloud to the rest of the party. "Mates!" he cried. "Are we not shamed by the words of this innocent? He will not run, he – why then should we do so? The power which protects him can protect us. Let us turn once more, and never give way like this to the evil ones."
The words of Firminger produced a great effect upon those who heard him. Some indeed there were who had already made their way so far that they neither saw nor heard anything that followed, but fully two-thirds of the party checked their flight, and waited to see what would follow.
They were much reassured by that which immediately occurred. James Firminger went up to the boy and spoke to him kindly to the following effect. "Steenie boy, that's right! You won't run, will you, lad? You ban't afraid of no witches nor crones neither, be you?"
Thus addressed, Steenie drew himself up to his full height, smiled upon his questioner as he had upon his father, and said very gravely. "No. Steenie not 'fraid. Good people help Steenie."
As this was immediately interpreted by all who heard him to mean that the half-witted lad was assured of supernatural assistance in any encounter which might ensue, it had a wonderfully comforting effect upon the whole party.
The courage which, in the case of most of them, had been "oozing out at their fingers' ends," suddenly and miraculously returned to its natural home in their hearts, and they began to encourage each other by speech and gesture, and to ask what there was to be afraid of.
Seeing his opportunity, Firminger used all his arts of persuasion, and the result was that those of the party who had not got beyond hearing when the above mentioned incident took place, wheeled boldly and bodily round, and retraced their steps towards the knoll-field, Firminger and Long leading the way, preceded by "Simple Steenie," who declined to walk with any of them, but trotted on ahead. As for Finn, he had disappeared and was no more seen that day, having been so completely overcome by the total failure of the great invocation to which he had pinned his faith, that he was incapable of further action for the time, and was indeed never quite the same man afterwards.
When the party got near the gate, there was no sign of anything unusual, but as soon as they set foot within the field, the same roaring arose which they had heard before, and the same smoke began to puff out from the knoll and to enwrap it once more in dark wreaths. At this moment Firminger, Long, and their followers suddenly started with surprise.
"Simple Steenie" was indeed walking before them, having left the trotting pace at which he had started, but he was no longer alone! A short, thick-set man, clad entirely in gray from head to foot, was leading the boy by the hand as they advanced together. In his hand he held a long staff, but otherwise appeared to be entirely unarmed. Whence he had sprung from no one could tell; they had not seen any of their own party rush forward, and certainly no one had descended from the knoll. However, there was the Gray Man, sure enough, and on he marched by "Simple Steenie's" side, as if they were the best friends in the world, and had long ago arranged the enterprise on which they were jointly bound. The others followed at a respectful distance, more and more astonished as matters went on.
The roaring continued and presently the same process was repeated as that which the people had previously witnessed and undergone. Figures moved rapidly amid the thick smoke, and ever and anon a lurid flame flashed from one side of the knoll to the other, affording a momentary glimpse of awful forms with threatening gestures directed towards those who appeared desirous to invade their territory.
Still "Simple Steenie" and his companion walked calmly on until they were within a very short distance of the knoll, when, as before, it opened, and a volume of cinders and ashes was again poured forth. But, at the same instant, the Gray Man raised his staff high above his head and shook it in the air. Suddenly, without a cloud in the sky or any appearance whatever of rain, a perfect torrent of water descended from the heavens upon the knoll, the effect of which was to produce just such a "fiz" as when you throw a tumbler of water upon the fire, only this sound was as if several hundred thousand tumblers had been thrown upon the same number of fires all at once, producing the loudest and most wonderful "fiz" that you can imagine. At the same moment a prolonged and terrible howl arose from inside the hill, as if the effects of the water had caused great discomfort therein.
Next happened a remarkable incident. The mouth of the knoll opened with the same kind of yawning action as has been already described, as if the same onslaught as before was about to be repeated. But instead of waiting for this, "Steenie" and the "Gray Man" both raised a loud shout, the latter brandished his staff once more over his head, and both of them rushed boldly forward into the mound, which immediately closed behind them. The bystanders were struck with horror and amazement.
Was the Gray Man in league with the enemy, and had he thus lured poor Steenie to his destruction? If so – why and whence the torrent of water, which had evidently not been relished by the inhabitants of the knoll? What on earth did it all mean?
For a few moments the whole party stood fearful and irresolute. Soon it became evident that warm work was going on inside the knoll. Shouts, yells, rumblings, howls, and the most discordant noises were heard within, whilst there were those among the people, and notably James Firminger and Bully Robus, who always declared that they heard, in and above the outcry, the word, "Dunstan! Dunstan!" repeated ever and anon, and the same thought crossed the minds of both of them at the same time, namely, that the appearance of the Gray Man greatly resembled the description of the great Saint Dunstan, so famous for the manner in which he tackled the arch-enemy upon one occasion with a pair of tongs, and whose name was said to be especially dreaded by all evil creatures.
Be this as it may, the noise had not continued above a minute or two, before the spirit of James Firminger became too much excited to allow of his remaining quiet any longer.
Calling to his companions to come on and help poor Steenie, he rushed boldly forward, and was followed by most of the others. But they were still several yards away from the scene of action, when they were stopped by an occurrence so extraordinary that no one who witnessed it ran the smallest chance of ever forgetting it.
The knoll burst open in at least twenty different places, and from it there issued the same sort of creatures as those who had previously attacked and routed the Mersham forces. But their aspect was now as completely changed as their behaviour. Cowering, shrieking, huddling together as if to escape some terrible pursuer, they rushed frantically away on all sides, with heart-rending cries of despair and anguish.
Then, in the very middle of the knoll, rushing after the retreating foe, appeared no less a personage than the Gray Man, flourishing his staff, and closely followed by "Simple Steenie," whose features were glowing with excitement, and whom they distinctly saw in the act of administering a violent kick to a repulsive-looking creature with a serpent's head and man's body, who was beyond all question an evil one of the worst description, but whose departure was much quickened by the action of the "innocent."
As everybody among the lookers-on was greatly confused and alarmed at the extraordinary spectacle suddenly presented to their view, one hardly knows how far it would be safe to rely upon the many different accounts which were afterwards given of the details of the transaction of which I am writing, and good Farmer Barrett always used to warn me against believing as gospel every particular of this part of the story.
However, there were many worthy people out upon this day who declared solemnly that among the strange and horrible creatures who were turned out of Aldington Knoll that day, they recognised the faces and features of several of their neighbours, dead and gone, who had been reputed witches in their life-times. And little Dick Broadfoot, the tailor of Mersham Street, an acute man as well as an honest, and one that would not willingly either lie or exaggerate, always took his bible oath that he saw, as plainly as he ever saw anything in his life, three awful creatures, with cats' heads and bodies, but with horns and wings, and with claws longer than any possessed by mortal cat, fly out of the mount and down the woods, each having fast hold of and carrying with it a form which writhed and struggled as if in fearful agony, but writhed and struggled in vain. And furthermore, Dick avowed that he saw – though how he had time to see it I don't know – he saw, I say, and knew it for a certain fact, that these three unhappy wretches were the three crones of Mersham, doubtless being carried off to their own place by the three evil ones who had hitherto served them under the form of cats.
Whether to believe the little tailor or not I hardly know, but Bully Robus backed him up in the story, and as the three crones never again appeared in that part of the world, it may have been quite true.
Certain it is that all those creatures who issued from the knoll in the way I have described were evidently driven out against their will, utterly defeated and brought to tribulation by a superior power. In a very short time they had utterly disappeared, a strong smell of sulphur being the only remaining token that they had ever been there, whilst upon the knoll, which had closed up behind them, "Simple Steenie" and his companion remained, standing alone in triumph.
The people saw the Gray Man lay his hand upon the lad's head for an instant, as if calling down a blessing upon him; then there came a mist or cloud over the knoll, and when they looked again, Steenie was standing alone. They hurried towards him, instinctively knowing that there was no more danger to be apprehended from the place, and he turned smilingly to meet them with an air of triumph.
"Steenie not 'fraid," he said. "Naughty people run 'way! All gone!"
But to all their questions about his late companion he could only answer by a vacant smile and incoherent words, which left them as ignorant as before. They had, however, the great consolation of knowing that, whether it had come about by the aid of "Simple Steenie's" innocent efforts, or whether the Gray Man had of his own accord planned the whole affair, and arranged for the discomfiture of the wicked ones, that discomfiture was certain and complete.
From that day forth Aldington Knoll has been a peaceful quiet spot, from whence the views to which I have already alluded may be contemplated without any fear of interference by any unpleasant inmates of the mound, for there are none worse than rabbits now. More might be told about some of the characters of our story, but short and casual allusions are not desirable, and to do more would be to lengthen the story too much. So I will leave my readers to fancy for themselves all that happened afterwards to John Gower and his family, as well as to Farmer Long, Simple Steenie, and all the rest of them. It is a good many years ago now since these things occurred, and the actors in the stirring scenes which I have related have long since passed away.
If I had not chronicled them now, from my recollection of good old Farmer Barrett's gossips, I dare say Jack Barrett – who is a careless fellow at best, and not equal to his father – (young men seldom are in these days, according to my opinion) would have told the story differently, and only in fragments, to his children, and they would have varied it again in telling it to their children, so that in a couple of generations it would have been quite uncertain, and the real truth never would have been known.